Remember the Starfighter

By Michael Kan

The war rages on. The enemy is consuming all intelligent life throughout the galaxy. And to stop them, the stars may have to die.

Enter Julian Nverson, a disgraced pilot reactivated to fight in a conflict humanity lost long ago. He joins the remnants of mankind, in the midst of another invasion, another exodus, when billions of lives have already been swept away.

Perhaps the end is inevitable. But Julian won't be alone in his fight. Forces that were formerly dead, forgotten or trapped will converge together, all in the hopes of freeing the galaxy once and for all.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michael Kan
• Release date: Apr 2, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311371171

Michael Kan

Michael Kan is a science fiction fan.

Book preview

PART I: THE STARFIGHTER

Chapter 1

Remember Earth.

Glancing at the words, Julian read them again, trying to understand.

Earth, he said out loud, the hint of amusement in his voice. What is there to remember?

Julian was at work inside his transport ship when he spotted the neglected slogan. As he stood at the porthole, he found the forgotten text out in space. The bold-faced letters were nearly scratched away. He focused his attention to the vessel that carried the words. The phrase was painted across thick slabs of armor.

The Avenger was in orbit; the battleship was waiting for the incoming cargo. Saddling his own one-man spacecraft next to it, Julian had begun making the transfer.

In the back of his ship, tugged a long-train of packaged freights. As he initiated the unloading procedures, a pair of space-suited workers had started dismantling the cargo to ferry them into the Avenger’s hangar bay.

It was all routine work. Mostly mundane. Nothing complicated, but also beneath his skill.

Alone, inside the cockpit, Julian looked out another porthole to see the rest of the battleship.

He expected to find nothing different. It would be more thick ingots of armor, along with all the weaponry, holding still across the ship’s hulking mass.

Instead, what Julian found called out to him.

There was no battleship in his midst now. Only the war.

Out of his own volition, Julian began to see it. His mind was stumbling across the memory, as he always had. The shot to the head. The blood from the mouth. The weapon in his hand. In that moment, he had returned to the past, his body slipping into death.

Gasping for air, Julian clenched the surrounding bulkhead and turned away from the window.

He had only wanted to go about his day normally, and focus on the task at hand. But what came was the last thing Julian could ever want: to remember and to relive it.

Taking a deep breath, he looked around, only to see the isolated confines of his tiny ship. In another sigh, Julian planted himself down in the pilot’s seat, still alone.

—Incoming message

He heard the chime of the electronic beep. Reluctantly, he answered the call. The glass monitor to his ship’s computer flickered on.

HAVEN SPACECORE DISPATCH read its title. The message was clearly military in nature. Baffled to see it, Julian opened the file and displayed the contents on the screen.

What he saw left him in pause. Was this a joke?

Shit, he muttered, reading the message again. I’ve been reactivated.

***

HTN NEWSCASTER: Contact with the Iyanas homeworld of Feradan ended today, as Endervar forces encircled the planet, disrupting all communication and traffic with one of the Alliance’s largest colonies.

Over 14 billion Iyanas citizens were estimated to be based on Feradan, a colony that had not been listed under imminent threat from Endervar invasion.

The stunning siege has left much of the galactic public in shock, and adds more evidence that the Alliance’s latest containment strategy may be failing.

Two days before, over 300 Endervar ships entered the Iyanas home system to crush the defending local fleet. A separate counterattack by the Alliance military was also repelled, the total casualties of both engagements numbering in the tens of thousands.

Military data on Endervar movement in the galaxy remains confidential. But recent attacks paint a grim picture, showing enemy forces invading more worlds once assumed protected, and well outside the Alliance’s containment zone.

ALLIANCE REPRESENTATIVE Z’HARIAN: We have no comment on the invasion of Feradan at this time, only to say that the Alliance will continue to embark with standard evacuation and containment protocols. We urge the public to remain calm.

HTN NEWSCASTER: Alliance representatives have yet to offer any updates. However, speculation is running high that the Alliance will be forced to pull back the containment zone, due to the ongoing Endervar incursions.

As the Iyanas people mourn, we at HTN asked if our own planet of Haven should be concerned about the growing aggressiveness of the Endervar attacks.

Chancellor Kasalana has yet to make a comment on Feradan, aside from her condolences. But this afternoon, her chief of staff said the current administration continues to invest heavily in the SpaceCore military, along with the outer-colony project of Isen.

LONA CRAY: We’ve been preparing for all contingencies for centuries now. We have the right plans in place, and we’re enacting them as swiftly as possible. That said, we still have time. Feradan has been an unfortunate, but unique, situation.

HTN NEWSCASTER: In other news, Haven’s SpaceCore is preparing to launch its next-generation spacecraft tomorrow. After seven years in development, the S.C. Paragon—

Enough. Julian cared little for what the television was saying, only that it was annoying him. Not like it mattered. The ongoing war had, and always would, dominate the interstellar broadcasts.

He sat there alone at the bar, a drink of hard liquor in his left hand as he shifted his attention away from the television monitor in the corner of the room. To his right, was his other hand propping up his sullen head.

You look like one sad sack of shit Julian.

At first, he barely heard the voice. The news of the day continued to buzz through the confines of the small establishment. Julian had just finished the midnight shift; all the other station workers were either sleeping or out starting work. Far to his left, however, he noticed Mac, the bartender, washing a cup with a white towel.

Mac shook his head in disapproval, seeing Julian, this transport pilot slouch on the bar table, half-drunk. Noticing that he wasn’t completely alone, Julian wiped the drool coming from his lips with his sleeve. He puckered up his mouth as if proud and nursed the ounces of whiskey still in his cup.

Not caring in the least, Julian seemed worn beyond his 30 years of age. His skin was rough, and his mane of black hair was unkempt and littered with flecks of gray. Massaging his uneven beard, he then grabbed his cup, and took another drink, the hard juices oozing down his throat.

What’s up Nverson? Bad day on the job? Mac asked with a smirk.

Hearing the question, Julian massaged his face, trying to relax his mind as he thought of a coherent answer. He burped, and then groaned.

I got the call today, Julian said as he looked off in the distance to see nothing but vacant wall. SpaceCore wants me to suit up.

Are you serious? Mac said, putting down the cup he was cleaning.

Julian nodded, slumping his body over the bar table.

Something big is going on with SpaceCore, Mac said, pressing harder to clean the soap scum on the cup. Feradan falls, and days before Witaga V… it can’t be a coincidence.

Half of the clientele that came to Mac’s bar were station workers. The other half were those from the military, stopping in to get a real alcoholic beverage. And so naturally, Mac heard things. Recently, most of it was bad.

They must be desperate for recruits, Julian said as he finished off his drink, the alcohol burning his throat. Last I remember the Core didn’t want me. Fuckers.

Mac, standing behind the bar, grabbed Julian’s now empty glass.

I’ll give you another one. This one is on the house, he said. Haven needs you buddy.

As he poured another drink, Mac happily smiled, like he was trying to congratulate Julian on the journey ahead.

Plus, being a hero is better than being out here, hulling transports all day, the bartender added.

Whatever Mac, Julian said. At least out here you don’t have to worry about getting killed.

***

We miss you Julian.

The girls hope to see you again. Catherine is five now, and Rehana is already three-and-half. Next time you visit, it would be great if you could bring them some gifts. They loved that Anium chocolate you brought last time.

I haven’t heard from you for much too long. I tried calling you in the past, but I could never reach you. I know things have been difficult. It’s been difficult for everyone, but especially you. Mom and Dad are still here, helping to take care of the kids, and they’re doing fine. Your brother Darien has been working hard in the government, and last month he was promoted. As for me, it’s been pretty stressful I have to admit. My unit has been trying to synthesize a new kind of Tricaline for use, but we are still behind schedule. It’s forced me to put extra hours in the labs. I don’t know if I’ll ever get it done.

Things on Haven haven’t really changed. They’ve stopped a lot of the rationing, and the protests have died down a bit. Even though it’s about a decade away, they’ve started signing people up to take colony ships. My unit might make the transfer to Isen as part of a new weapons plant, but it’s still too soon to say.

Anyways, you must come visit when you have the time. Even a call will do. It would make me, and the rest of the family feel a lot better. We’re always here for you. You’re not alone brother. I worry about you a lot. So please call if you can.

Your sister,

Angela

Julian closed the message. Its contents dimmed away into darkness as the three-dimensional hologram shutdown. The message had been two months old, but only now did Julian read the words. He rubbed his brow while closing his eyes, the needle of longing picking into his thoughts.

He was alone now, once again, sitting inside his quarters on board the orbital space station. Cramped was his room: a bed, washroom, and storage space tightly tucked together and shelved between long columns of other living quarters. It was plain, and lifeless, nothing of sentimental value, all merely just functional. He had no need for such material goods, no need to remind himself of his past. Soon he turned off the lights with an order from his voice, and lay on his bed, his body fatigued from the alcohol and the events of the day.

Julian then took a final glance at the window to his room, where a field of stars hung in the view. 29 light-years away was where his sister and family was, on Haven, the home system. It had been over two years since he had set foot on the planet. His youth and upbringing had all started there. But Julian had little interest in returning. He instead found himself out here, in another star system. His new so-called home: Meridian station, a key outpost of Haven’s military.

The air was synthesized, the gravity artificial, and much of the food he ate came fabricated, never cooked. These were the comforts of living in space; everything was entirely manufactured. Below Meridian station orbited the desolate planet of Eras. There, the government had established mining and weapons facilities, much of it automated by robotics. The raw minerals and manufactured equipment were then sent above to the station, which served as a supply depot and shipyard. Each day, Julian made his tiny contribution, transporting containers to and fro from station to ship. For almost two years he had done this, thinking little about life and just doing.

But soon that would all change. In spite of his past fallings, the military was calling him back. The war was coming.

He felt the sensation, the pain burning through his mind. Drips of blood fell from his nostrils, and down to his chin. Rather than wipe it away, Julian massaged the side of his head, and warily remembered where this all began. The old wound would fester, as it always had. It would not let him forget.

Chapter 2

The emergency sirens blared across the station.

He awoke feeling the onset of a headache. The station continued to sound off.

Alert, the computerized voice shouted over the comm channel. Alert, all non-essential personnel evacuate the station.

Julian groaned, covering his ears with his pillow. Fuck, he said, finally pushing himself off the bed. Is this a drill?

As he rose, he could feel the entire room tremble. Then it convulsed. Julian lost his balance and fell down to the hard cold floor.

The room rocked again. And again, the metal around him crashing and twisting. Julian held on to the ground, hearing the painful sounds of the hull. The alert sounded off once more. Evacuate the station, the voice droned. Please reach the nearest escape shuttles.

Julian attempted to stand. But as he did, he could feel something smash into the hull. Collision after collision came, the impacts intensifying. Cringing in fear, he could hear the walls around him quake. Whatever was happening was going to tear the station apart. He braced for the worst, closing his eyes, his heartbeat racing. Sudden death, however, was not at hand — the station was steadying, the alarms were still sounding. Julian could only assume that the station’s protective energy shields were holding. He threw on his shoes and ran toward the door, still clothed in his flight suit. The adrenaline had begun to run into his system; somehow, he would have to survive this.

Outside in the hallway, the alarms rang even louder, repeating the call to abandon the station. The area was bathed in red emergency lights, the feeling of battle in the air. Holographic images, beaming in neon yellow light, projected themselves across the hallway walls.

Nearest emergency escape shuttles: Alpha Wing.

He ran through the vacant hallway; the ground was shaking as more weapons fire bombarded the station. With each blast, a giant hammer seemed to fall over the place, straining the station’s energy shields and shaking its armor. Against those weapons, the structure and its defensive systems wouldn’t hold much longer and Julian knew it. Up ahead, he could see other station workers running down the hall. A man, dressed in an engineer’s uniform, yelled to him: Come on! Over here. Harder, he ran, with nothing to analyze. An instinct to survive was coursing through his body.

Trailing the engineer, Julian came into sight of Alpha Wing. A circular door at the far end of the hallway was opened, with three other crew members walking into the entrance. The emergency shuttle had to be on the other end. Julian breathed a sigh of relief.

A second later, he found himself knocked to the ground. A massive tremor, far fiercer than the previous, had hit the station. The hallway viciously shook as if sliding off into a cliff. Julian gripped the wall as he could hear the roar of weapons fire hitting the hull. The buckling of gears echoed in the confines, followed by a terrible screech. Something was on the verge of breaking.

Then he felt the fire.

Up ahead, the entrance to Alpha Wing had exploded. A burst of flames nearly blinded Julian’s vision. Screams and then silence. The three crew members who had stepped into the entrance were surely dead. Julian could see the engineer he had been trailing. The man had collapsed on his back, hit by the shockwave from the explosion. Julian pushed himself up from the floor, running toward him.

System failure on Deck 4, sounded the automated alarm. Hull breach detected.

Only a few steps in front of him, a metallic door came dropping down. It sealed shut, blocking off the rest of the hallway. Emergency it read on its surface; the letters were red and large. Julian glanced through a window in the door. The fallen engineer was on the other side. He looked at the man, and saw that he was probably only in his twenties and likely younger than himself. The engineer stared back as he clung to the ground.

The confusion on the man’s face turned into sheer horror. The air around him had vanished; his hair was pulled over his face. Desperately the engineer screamed, but not a sound could be heard. Julian cowered away from the window, knowing what was to come. Seconds later, he looked back. The man was nowhere in sight; a breach into the beating blackness was the only thing left.

Outer space. The emptiness had sucked the man’s life away.

Julian turned and ran.

***

He could smell blood on him. Large drops of it seemed to be sinking into his left eye. His head was in a daze; he had just been struck down. Meanwhile, the side of his stomach writhed in pain. A broken rib or two likely. Julian could only swear.

Nevertheless, he was moving. Julian found himself laying upright on his back, dragged across the floor. As he coughed, the movement stopped.

Are you all right?

The arms around him let go. Julian grabbed his stomach, feeling the tender break in his ribs. On his head was hair caked in blood. He wanted to speak, but he could only cough. A long wheeze cut through his words.

Come on, we can make it, the voice said again. We’re almost there.

It was a woman. She came up to his side, helping to pull him up. Painfully, Julian closed his eyes as he tried to stand.

Can you walk? the woman asked.

His abdomen was heavy, his joints locked in ache. Julian was a beaten lump of flesh, his mind still reeling from the blow. His legs, however, had come away unscathed. Taking a few steps forward, he forced himself through the pain. Yeah, it’s okay. My legs seem to be fine, he said.

Julian patted the side of his stomach, cradling his body like it was on the brink of falling apart. Saliva, mixed with blood, carelessly drooled from his mouth. He wiped it across his sleeve, smearing the bodily fluids across his clothes. Coughing some more, Julian slowly began to regain his senses. He could recall it. An emergency door had sealed off the hull breach. Frantically, he had tried to find another shuttle, only to be blindsided by an explosion on the deck. Fuck, he uttered.

Come on, the ship is just right around the corner, the woman said.

Julian leaned on the wall, forcing himself to walk through the sting in his sides. He noticed the woman. Her body was fitted in a gray officer’s uniform.

What the hell happened? he asked.

The woman squinted at him, and came close to his side to help him walk.

Took a big hit to the head didn’t you? she joked.

The Endervars attacked. It was a complete surprise. We detected about 30 ships entering the system, all of which went on an immediate intercept course with Meridian station, she said. The rest, well, you can just take a look.

Around him, Julian could see and hear it. The abandon station order shrieked through the hallway; shards of blasted metal lay upon the floor. Temperatures on board were humid and hot, the smell of fire and smoke was in the air. Amazingly, artificial gravity and life-support were still online.

Nearly half of the station was destroyed, along with the command bridge. But the enemy seems to have stopped the attack and is focusing on scanning Eras below, she said. I stumbled across your body as I was leaving my post. Been dragging your ass all the way here.

Julian looked at the woman’s hands, and saw his blood smeared across them.

Thanks. I owe you one, he said.

They continued walking, Julian trying to hurry as he felt the station walls quaver amid the destruction. He felt no fear, just a burning anger to rid himself of the situation — in a few more minutes, this place would all go to hell. With each breath, he labored to move his body, forcing himself to endure, feeling the pinch of pain nag at his every step. Arriving at the entrance to Gamma Wing, he let out a long exhale, and read the words Hangar bay flicker in a holo image above the entryway.

Access to all other emergency shuttles was cut off, the woman said. This is how we leave.

The two pulled at the door, cranking it open manually with their bare hands. On the other end was not a shuttle, but a battle cruiser.

Though it was small compared to other military ships, the vessel seemed large to them, taking up most of the area in the cavernous hangar room. It was an older Type II Venture-class ship, and built with the long body of a rocket. Ships like these served as escorts and generally carried about 40 crew members. However, the vessel in front of them looked as if it were in the midst of a refit. Metal braces covered the ship’s exterior; a lattice of automated machinery draped over the craft in a repair net.

The S.C. Crusader has been in dry dock for the last week. Command was considering scraping it. But engines should be functioning, she said.

Julian looked over the woman.

She was tall and slender, with long brown hair tied together behind her head. Like him, she had also endured hell. Smoke and soot covered her face while a small cut left a line of blood across her cheek. Julian could see the woman’s exhaustion. Her shoulders were slumped, and her eyes were limp.

Still, she managed to muster a smile.

Damn, she said in a laugh. I hope they didn’t disable the automated systems or else we’re really screwed. I haven’t flown in years.

Staring at the ship, Julian knew he needed to act.

Don’t worry, he replied. Leave this to me.

***

My name is Julian Nverson. I’m a former flight officer with the Core, he said, sticking out his hand.

The woman reached and shook it.

Lt. Nalia Kynestar. SpaceCore Intelligence and Operations officer, she said. You can fly this?

They found themselves inside the Crusader’s bridge, with Julian sitting at the helm, and Nalia standing by next to his shoulders. The lieutenant had overridden the security protocols and gained access to the ship’s systems. Everything was online, including shields, weapons and engines.

Definitely, Julian replied. When I was enlisted, I mainly flew fighter craft, but I’m also trained for larger vessels.

It had been almost four years, but the controls of the military craft were organized nearly the same way as the transporter Julian flew in his day job. He placed his bloodied hands on the console and activated the controls like he belonged in the pilot’s chair.

The ship’s di-fusion core is nearly depleted, but it’ll be enough to get us out of the system, Julian said. Flipping on the controls, he revved the ship’s engines. Opening hangar bay doors. Prepare for lift off.

Julian ignited the launch sequence, unclamping the vessel from the docking port. Slowly, the Crusader lifted off the hangar bay floor, pushed up by the ship’s anti-gravity field. The effect was an invisible force sliding the ship into a launch position. In front of the vessel, hangar doors slowly separated open, inhaling the air out into a window of space.

Power from the ship rerouted into the three engine nacelles at the back of the vessel, causing them to glow a hot neon blue. A burst of energy then followed.

Manning the controls, Julian maneuvered the vessel, sending it in a direct course out of the station and away from the nearby planet. The Crusader complied, swiftly exiting the hangar bay, and tearing off the refit lattice that once tied the vessel down. The engines glowed even hotter — pulsating into a diamond white — and accelerated the ship into dozens, then approaching hundreds of miles per second.

Julian gave a deep breath and closed his eyes in a moment of relief. But he knew they had yet to escape the threat.

As he piloted the vessel, he could immediately see the damage from the attack. Julian pulled up the images onto the ship’s main view screen, and saw the remains of satellites, freighters and starships. All of it was inert metal hanging in the dead of space. Pockets of ashen debris and rubble had begun to pile across the orbit. Broken hulls, once carrying station workers, floated in the cold.

He then switched the view toward Meridian spaceport. The orbital station, formerly a giant ring spinning in space, had been split in two — one-half was still intact, the other was a burning, fueled by the exploding fusion batteries on board. The entire command bridge, a floating hub suspended at the center of the station, had been vaporized into powdered metal.

The wreckage continued to scatter, the only thing left the Crusader and a handful of ships still evacuating the sector. Whatever fight humanity had put up had failed hideously in the face of the enemy.

So fast did it happen, in ten minutes. Maybe less.

Do you see any of the enemy ships? he asked.

Nalia sat at a command console not far from Julian’s side. Rapidly, she typed away, pulling up 3D scans and sensory data on her own console screen. She was not in the least affected by the imagery of the onslaught. Instead, her undivided attention was focused on the other urgent matter at hand.

No, nothing in weapon’s range, she replied. Most are circling Eras, engaging remaining forces.

Then at least we’re home free.

He waited, expecting a nod of approval. Julian, however, had spoken too soon.

Damn, Nalia replied. How long before we can reach hyperspace?

I don’t know. The ship’s computer is still plotting a stable jump point.

This is not good. Before I left my station, Meridian’s command bridge had issued a Lucifer order.

Julian knew the term well. It was a military tactic that had been stricken from public records. This was because it involved sacrificing an entire planet. Eras, a vital mining colony that supplied weapons to the fleet, looked to become an acceptable military loss.

I’m already reading anti-matter cores across the planet are reaching critical overload, Nalia said. Even the enemy ships are starting to flee.

Julian knew that just one anti-matter core had enough explosive power to obliterate a large asteroid. The combined energy of what might be a dozen cores still on the surface would tear the planet apart, and anything in the space around it. The enemy fleet would be destroyed. But so would the Crusader, if it wasn’t far enough. Realizing this, Julian pushed the ship into overdrive.

***

From space, Eras was a lilac pearl. It was the seventh planet located out from its blue parent star, and it revolved in space, alone. Not even a moon had bothered to fall in its orbit. Purple gases twisted across its atmosphere, making it seem like a mysterious jewel. But despite its majestic presence, ultimately it was a barren world. Except for the mining facilities and weapons plants that had dug into its surface, nothing but winding rock formations and gapping canyons lay beneath the skies of the airless planet.

Unfortunately, that dormancy was about to shatter.

The explosions came in a fury. Geysers of energy soared from the weapon stockpiles. Atomic particle clashed against its own parallel self, resulting in an ever-growing cascade that fueled an all-consuming power. From flashes of violent eruptions to a world-breaking energy, it ravaged on. Continents of ground began to splinter, with waves of solid rock sent up into the air. The entire planet began to crack, unraveled by the magnitude of energy pulsating through the dying world.

As the solid sphere crumbled, in its place emerged a wave of matter that pulverized anything in its path. The remaining enemy ships, wanting to flee, saw themselves crushed as massive shards of rock shot out. That torrent of power raged forward, reaching to grab the dying carcass of Meridian station and consume it. Moving on to its next target, the violent energy sought to destroy the escaping Crusader.

Diverting auxiliary power to the shields, Nalia said.

Julian could see it on the view screen: a once quiescent world mutilated into a rampaging weapon. He held on to the ship’s controls, squeezing whatever he could out of them. There had to be a way out.

As he made the plea in his mind, the ship answered back; a golden icon appeared on the navigational viewer.

Got it. Hyperspace jump point locked in, he said. It’s barely stable, but it’ll have to do.

If the Crusader couldn’t outrun the explosion at its current speed, it would just have to disappear into the fabric of space all together. Julian punched in the coordinates, and activated the vessel’s hyperspace drive.

In the area ahead of the Crusader, the veil of blackness ebbed then broke apart, as if two invisible hands had burrowed a hole into space. A portal materialized, one filled with cosmic energies. It was what scientists called hyperspace — the backdoor behind the universe, where barriers to light and distance collapsed and merged. Julian took the Crusader in. The ship vanished from sight.

Chapter 3

She placed the bandage on the wound, and let it work.

Settling on the skin, the patch of white fiber latched on, covering the cut at his forehead. In a few seconds, the microscopic machines under it would begin rebuilding the tissue.

This should make the pain all go away, she said.

She called herself Nalia, and she was a lieutenant in the military. He had seen many officers on Meridian station in the two years he had worked there. But never her. She was focused and carried herself confidently. Julian, on the other hand, couldn’t help but feel utterly tired from everything they had just gone through.

He guessed some had survived the attack on Meridian, although surely many had died. The station had more than 500 people on board.

These bandages will have to do until we can get you to a functioning medical bay, Nalia said. There’s not much here I can work with.

She waved her hand at the equipment. The Crusader’s med bay was nearly barren; only a pair of examination tables were left standing in the vacant room. Basic medical kits, however, were still in stock.

Julian pushed himself off the examination table. His bloodied clothes were now changed into a spare gray uniform. He touched his ribs, feeling the outline of the bandages around his cracked bones.

I don’t know how we survived that.

Neither do I, Nalia replied. I’m just glad I bumped into you. Else I’m not sure I’d be able to pilot this ship.

No, he said. I’d be dead if not for you, lieutenant.

No need for the formalities. Nalia will do.

She walked off, moving to sit on a chair nearby. Minutes ago, she had cleaned herself up, washing away the bloody smears across her hands and cheek. While the enemy’s attack had been brutal, she appeared unfazed by the trauma. The mark of a veteran, even as she was young, perhaps no older than himself. SpaceCore Intelligence had always been known to recruit from the best and the brightest. In Julian’s experience, most were no-nonsense, and rarely social. This woman, however, was something different.

What a total clusterfuck, she said. Nalia groaned as she aimlessly spun in the swivel chair.

The Endervars attack and wipe out Meridian and our weapons plant on Eras. Strategic command didn’t even see it coming.

What happened back there? Julian asked. Why are the Endervars here? Didn’t the military projections put their arrival to this sector in another half-century?

Officially, yes, she said. But just in the last few years, we’ve seen the Endervars aggressively expand into this region of space. We count thousands of ships, maybe more. We have no idea why, only that they’re clearly on the search for more sentient life.

So the rumors are true then, he said. That’s why I was called back into duty. I was scheduled to report to Haven’s military command. But then this all happened.

She laughed at the irony. Well, we’re headed there now, she said. I was originally stationed on the Avenger, but was transferred to Meridian to help lead operations there. My big promotion.

The enemy ended that, he replied.

True, but I aim to see we deliver some payback. SpaceCore is assembling a fleet with the help of the Alliance. It will be our biggest operation yet. We aim to beat those bastards back where they came from.

The woman pounded her fist on her knee. He could see the excitement mixed in with grief brim through her eyes. Perhaps it was holding back an anger at seeing such a huge loss at the hands of the enemy. The disappointments with the military and the SpaceCore were always abundant, with victories few and far between.

So what brought you out to Meridian? she asked. I hope you didn’t lose any friends back there.

The thought hadn’t even occurred to him. Friends, he had none on Meridian, except maybe a few acquaintances, Mac the bartender, being one of them. What had become of him, Julian didn’t even dare to ask. He had no connections with that place, nothing but his job. He could only feign his sentiments, saying he hoped most of its crew had escaped.

I just came there for the work. It was easy, nothing too hard.

I guess that’s gone now, she said. This war seems to ruin everything, doesn’t it?

He stared down at the floor, slowly nodding to the woman’s comment.

You should rest. I’ll take you to a room, where you can lie down. It’ll be a short while or so before we reach Haven.

She was right. He was exhausted. Julian rose to his feet and Nalia came to his side, interlinking her arms with his.

It’s a pleasure to meet you Julian, she said. When the shit hits the fan, somehow you still end up meeting good people.

***

He had been shot. The blood everywhere. In his eyes, even in his mouth. His vision red; his brain matter was scattered about. A hole passing in and out of his head. His body about to collapse.

It was a nightmare, one that left Julian shaking from the bed. He rose from the thin mattress, his heart rate racing, like his body was trying to stay alive. He told himself it was just a dream. A figment of the imagination. Out of his control. But the lie would never take hold. This was an actual memory. A broken shard of one, the images a flashback — so graphic and real. The past incident had perhaps altered his mind for the worse.

Julian felt sick. He wanted to run away. Hide like a scared child. But as his senses came to, he realized that he already had. He had been discharged from the military over three years ago. Exiled into a different kind of work, disgraced. He was a washed-up pilot running freighters, in a floating warehouse, he had no attachment to.

He left the bed, and ran his hands into a nearby sink inside the personal quarters.

As the cold water hit his face, Julian couldn’t help but remember. The call to evacuate, the emergency alarms, and the erratic rumbling across Meridian station. A muted scream of an unlucky engineer sucked out into space. The empty void wanting to claim him too. Images of the dead ships all flooded into his mind. And suddenly, those distant memories, filled with violence, appeared as well. He now saw himself again, dying on the floor, the back of his head punctured, the guts bleeding out.

Why? Why did I do it?

Julian’s hands jerked, clasping together to stop the shaking. The physical pain in his body had largely disappeared, but Julian shrank as the trauma came knocking into his mind. He could only hold on to the sides of the sink, clutching them tight, when the reality of the nightmare reared its ugly head. Julian sucked in the air, as the long sigh then came from his breath. Already, he could feel it. The nose bleed aggravating once more.

Shit, he said, the red rivering down to his lips. Julian then thought back to the lieutenant and what she had said earlier. Indeed, this war had ruined everything, especially him.

***

Hyperspace, the means in which interstellar travel was possible, throbbed in the distance. The violet hues were in the background and beating like a living heart.

Cosmic light waxed and waned across the Crusader as it navigated through the milky medium. Peering at it was like being submerged in an ocean of exotic space; the waves of stars were glistening across the expanse. Scientists from across the galaxy had yet to fully understand the phenomenon. But without it, space-faring races would be forced to spend decades, if not centuries or millennia traveling by means bound more closely to the physical laws of the universe. Hyperspace provided that alternative: where gravitational fields were weak, a ship in any star system could open a gateway into a realm that folded space and time. And through it, the almost infinite distances between stars could be reached within weeks, to days, and even hours.

Although Nalia had told him to rest, Julian could not sleep. He stood on the bridge of the Crusader, looking out from a window into the strange emptiness that stared back at him. In a few moments, the veil of hyperspace would recede, and in its place would be the Haven star system, his true home.

What would he say to them? Julian kept circling the question, trying to find the courage to answer. His sister, his brother, his parents, they were all there on Haven, having heard nothing of him for more than a year. Things had moved so fast. The pressure made it difficult to think. But he knew it full well: this might be his last chance to see them. If not now, then perhaps never.

Julian, are you okay?

Nalia approached his side, wondering what he was looking at. You seemed to have spaced out, she said.

It’s just been a while since I’ve last seen Haven.

Me too. I’ve been out in the dark for the last four years. I’m sure you’ll get some time to visit.

I bet I’m going to have to report to duty soon, he replied. Not much time.

I wouldn’t worry too much, she said. Any free time you get, try to enjoy it while you can.

Nalia’s voice was calm as she tried to lift Julian’s spirits. He realized he had nothing to complain about. He was alive, thanks to this woman.

What will happen to you? he asked

I imagine I’ll be stationed at SpaceCore Command, planning our counterattacks. A lot of strategy sessions and meetings with the higher-ups will ensue, leaving me with piles of reports to go through.

Well I hope you tell command to cut down on those Lucifer orders, he joked.

She laughed, giving him a lighthearted salute. Will do.

You’re a good pilot Julian. You work quick. Kick some ass for me when you’re out there.

He saluted back.

Julian then dropped into the pilot seat. The ship’s computer showed that they had closed in on their destination. Using the navigation controls, he calculated a trajectory back into normal space. Re-entry would bring the vessel close to Worthy Station, SpaceCore’s largest orbital facility. It was located on the edge of the star system, and it functioned as the major staging ground for his people’s military operations.

Re-entry point calculated, he said to Nalia. Commencing synch with normal space.

As Julian inputted the orders, the Crusader’s hyperspace drive energized, emitting a gravitational field around the ship that lasted over a span of minutes. The pull generated by the vessel immediately counteracted with the cosmic energies that made up hyperspace. A tremor ran through the ship, as the stability of the area around it fractured. The Crusader’s connection to hyperspace began to sever, pulling the ship back into the normal physical laws.

On the bridge, Julian could see the transformation. The Crusader’s surroundings flickered in a white glow. Seconds later, the shroud lifted, revealing what lie in wait.

Julian still recollected the sight of Worthy Station. Along with ranking as the military’s largest orbital facility, it was also the oldest and comprised of an expanding patchwork of space modules. Decade after decade, it had grown, making it resemble a giant interlocking chain of parts. Worthy Station was hardly appealing to the eye. But within the confines housed some of the SpaceCore’s top military commanders, in addition to the most advanced technology mankind possessed. It would likely be there, where Julian would receive his first orders, just like he had, years before.

However, as the Crusader emerged into normal space, Julian could see what Worthy Station had become.

He saw no patchwork of modules, or any military monument on display. There was only the debris field in front of them. The fortress of humanity had been cut to pieces.

Chapter 4

Instinct was guiding his every move as he piloted the Crusader through the chaos. The weapons were ripping across space. Wreckage left over from the destruction of Worthy Station also filled the view screen. Julian made every effort to dodge.

He had no idea what was going on, only that they were in danger. Upon arriving in the Haven system, they had found SpaceCore Command to be no more. As they traveled, the carcasses of other starships appeared, all leading to a trail of where a battle was raging on. Julian powered up the shields, bracing for the inevitable combat.

What do you read on the scanners? he asked, trying to make sense of what was happening. Before he finished his question, Nalia sent over the image to his console screen.

Julian had seen war before. He knew slaughter. But still he was in shock. According to the navigational map, the star system was in the midst of an invasion. The Crusader’s computer counted waves of enemy vessels, numbering over a hundred and entering from all sides of the system. They were a swarm, striking deep within human territory, and breaking through Haven’s fortified defense perimeters. With each second, their forces seemed to grow one by one as more arrived, warping into the system. SpaceCore, having already lost their command center, could do nothing to fend off the attack. Their vessels, from capital ships to automated defense drones, were all falling off the grid, succumbing to the barrage of weapons fire. Closer and closer the enemy came to Julian’s homeworld as Haven’s military continued to fall back.

How did this happen? I don’t understand. We should have been ready for this, Nalia exclaimed.

Julian wanted to reassure her, but he could think of nothing to say. Whatever salvation they had hoped to find was crumbling right before them. Switching to the navigational map, he tried to focus.

The other vessels were in view. The row of battleships were trying to hold the line.

It was SpaceCore, or what was left of it. The weapon discharges were lighting the darkness, and launching a stream of shells into space. Each ship was cloaked in metal, and pummeled at their targets with a power that could decimate entire cities.

Talk to me Nalia. What are the remaining ships saying?

Through her console, Nalia synched the Crusader’s systems in with the military orders coming through the communication link.

All ships are to rendezvous at grid zero-point-one-eight. That’s right near Haven’s orbit.

Sounds like a last stand.

Alliance reinforcements are inbound, she said. Hopefully it’ll even up the odds.

While the battleships continued to fire off their arsenals, Julian looked at the Crusader’s own weapons. Missiles stocks were depleted, but rail cannons were still functioning. Julian had never thought he’d get the chance to helm a warship again, let alone in actual combat.

This battle would count the most. Activating weapons, he said.

As soon as he did, the enemy came striking.

Endervars spotted! Nalia shouted, shaking in her seat.

Julian felt the jolt hit the Crusader and checked the view screens. There, within the space, he spied the dreaded sight.

He was familiar with this. Too familiar. The rays of light, were seemingly simple, but deadly enough to slice open unprotected ship.

It was how the enemy had destroyed Worthy Station, along with anything else in its path. The particle beams were raining down upon them.

Julian went to dodge the enemy fire, and pulled the Crusader away from the area. As he did so, the energy beams stabbed into one of the battleships, drilling at the vessel’s shields. Layer after layer came off; the protective barriers were beginning to collapse. Then there was nothing, leaving only naked armor to face the wrath.

The battleship slowly turned, trying to escape the beams. But it was futile — the vessel was simply built to endure the damage, not to outmaneuver it. The black metal fortifying the ship began to glow white. The energy beams were striking against its hull. They carved into the structure, digging into its interior decks. Soon the vessel was set ablaze.

Julian could already imagine the human screams. The death was toll rising.

He glanced at the other battleships, and found nothing different. The particle beams were closing in; the destruction was repeating itself.

More people killed off. More debris left to scatter.

Julian glanced down at his ship’s command console, and saw the words weapon systems activated lighting up on the controls. It did not matter. Reason and logic made it totally clear: this was not a battle he could win.

He moved to retreat, and sent the Crusader away from the collapsing line of battle ships. They needed to regroup, and rejoin the remaining fleet at Haven, as fast as possible.

But even as Julian wanted to escape, it was too late.

Another lone energy beam, constant in its focus, crashed into the side of the Crusader. Julian could feel the whole vessel stagger, as it was nearly knocked off course. Shields down to 65 percent, Nalia yelled.

The weapon came lunging again, the next blast even harder. Once it hit, the beam sunk its teeth into the shields.

Julian felt the weapon gnaw away. Ordering the evasive maneuvers, he frantically looked to find a way out of the incoming fire. But again the weapon came. The third time, even worse. The unrelenting beam found its target. It came finally cracking the shields of the ship.

Emergency sirens flared across the bridge. Shields were down. The ship’s hull was now the only thing left protecting the vessel. Julian was speechless as he sat at his controls. He could feel his death approach.

Julian knew he had to fly, but he had no idea how he would dodge the next volley. Even in the blackness of space, the enemy was finding it, striking away at the vessel with weapons that came without mercy.

Endervar vessel incoming, Omni class! Nalia shouted.

The fear was taking over, his breaths growing strained. He didn’t want to look. But Julian knew he had to. It arrived to him on the view screen, an old nightmare come to life again.

The giant disk emerged. The single enemy vessel was seeking the Crusader out.

To Julian, it was a barrier wall steamrolling from behind, so large that not even humanity’s largest ships could contend with its sheer mass.

This was no mere spacecraft, but a force of nature, one that moved effortlessly across the area. In a bright white light the enemy vessel shined, the aura summoning more weaponry to the fore. With such power, the ship could send charged particles warping into beams of destruction. And now it was doing so again.

Move, Julian ordered his ship. Move!

The Crusader descended, striving to make the dive. But even as the distance widened, the enemy craft had locked on.

The maelstrom of power fired off, sending a new wave of ammunition bursting from the enemy’s saucer-like body. No matter where the Crusader might go, the particle beams would follow and saturate the desired path out.

If Julian was piloting a small fighter craft, then maybe they would have a chance. However, the Crusader was too large, too slow, and impotent to outmaneuver the barrage of enemy fire.

There was no time. No time to plot a jump back into hyperspace, or do much else. There would be no escape, for at least one beam would hit the ship. Outmatched and outgunned, Julian felt for certain that he was dead. After all, he had seen this happen so many times before. Entire fleets extinguished. Old friends swept away.

He knew it would be painless. In less than a second, Julian would be snuffed out. He was but one individual in the way of almost god-like forces that could brush aside all resistance. What was there to say or think when one knew that his time was finished?

It had only lasted a short moment. But in the midst of it all, Julian looked to his side and saw Nalia.

She stared back at him, silent, perhaps feeling the same, and saying nothing. There was little they could communicate, not within the few seconds they had left. All he could think was to reassure her somehow, or at least try to. It was his own form of apology, even as he needn’t be sorry.

Indeed, Julian was a burned out old pilot, and in truth, he didn’t care about himself. But as for her. This woman — a stranger. She must live, he thought. Nalia, he said in his mind.

He saw her face, a tragic smile starting to appear across her lips. She was beautiful, he realized. He must save her.

So Julian acted.

Get to the escape pod now! he shouted.

The words left his voice as the final beam collided with the Crusader. The blast tore the vessel apart. Power was lost, sending the ship into darkness. A crash was heard across the bridge, followed by an explosion.

Then there was a scream. The blood hitting the floor.

In a blink of the eye, the end came swiftly.

Chapter 5

She stood over the body. Its mind was still unconscious; she could feel it.

He’s having a dream, she thought. A smirk was on the ridge of her pink lips.

As she looked over him, he lay on the medical bed, his back against the cool silver surface. A clear plastic-like mask hugged his face, pumping him with purified oxygen.

The woman pulled it off.

It was not simply a thought, but a thought directed into his mind.

A few moments later, he came to, but still fatigued.

Julian opened his sleepy eyes and gave out a groan.

Where am I?

The room, presumably some sort of medical facility, illuminated with a light reflecting off its cyan walls. It smelled clean, with an open air unlike the synthesized version on a starship. Julian felt his chest. There was no pain as he breathed. No tightening of the lungs.

Someone was speaking to him. It was a soothing, unflinching voice, one from a woman. He could feel the calm, and care in its softness. But it wasn’t at all audible or coming from any certain direction.

Nalia, he said, blinking. Nalia, is that you?

On him was a shadow. The woman was projecting a silhouette. He looked to his left and saw her, finding the color of gold. The dark veil was still there, but along with the yellow